The Letters from No One
by WildeAquarius
Summary: Harry was on the point of unfolding his letter, which was written on the same heavy parchment as the envelope, when it was jerked sharply out of his hands by Uncle Vernon. Takes place at Hogwarts, as the acceptance letters are sent and sent again. And again. And again.


The Letters from No One

Late evening, July 24th, 1991

Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, sat in the pool of light cast by the single candle sitting on her desk just to her left.

The sensible, yet still somewhat flamboyant quill in her hand moved across the parchment, bright green ink trailing behind, as she finished writing out the acceptance letter.

_Minerva! How wonderful to see you! Come on, meet my son. He has his mother's eyes!_ The long ago voice excavated itself up from her memory.

Professor McGonagall signed her name then tucked the letter inside an envelope, dribbled purple wax over the crease and pressed the Hogwarts seal into the hot wax. The large letter H surrounded by the house mascots came out crisp and clean. Minerva nodded her approval of the seal. Double checking the address, she carefully copied the address on to the envelope in the same green ink. Then, with an almost nonchalant wave of her hand, the envelope disappeared.

Next, she consulted her list of incoming first years. The Patil twin's names catching her eye, and inwardly she hoped that the two sister's school career would be more subdued than the schools older set of twins, the Weasleys. She didn't think Hogwarts could survive a second set of extremely bright and just as artistic in their troublemaking, pranksters. Nor did Fred and George need any protégés. She sighed before retiring for the night.

Morning, July 25th, 1991

During the summer holidays, when there were no students at the school, and most of the staff were off visiting family, Professor McGonagall breakfasted with Headmaster Albus Dumbledore in his office. Both professors considered these breakfasts immensely pleasant, and both looked forward to them. They caught up with one another's previous days activities, discussed plans for the coming school year, and, both being ardent Quidditch fans, more often than not they ended up discussing the most recent match, or reliving a spectacular play of a long ago match over their final cups of tea.

"Good morning Minerva," Professor Dumbledore greeted her warmly as his deputy headmistress entered his office. Bright morning sunlight streamed in through the windows, bouncing and reflecting off the many whirling silver instruments in the office. Minerva had to blink several times for her eyes to adjust, and she finally found Dumbledore standing next to the perch occupied by his pet phoenix, Fawkes. The headmaster held a morsel in one hand, while his other hand lightly stroked the birds back.

"Good morning Albus," Minerva answered, a little tiredly. "Is it just the two of us this morning?" She knew that two of her fellow teachers, Professors Snape and Flitwick had returned to the school the previous evening.

"It is, yes." Dumbledore answered and offered Fawkes another scrap of food. "I've asked Severus and Filius to excuse us this morning as there is something we need to discuss."

Professor McGonagall still stood near the door, her hands clasped in front of her. "What it is, Albus?"

"Harry Potter did not receive his letter."

"Well, where did it go? I checked the address just before I sent it, it was correct…" Minerva began to protest.

Dumbledore held up a long fingered hand to silence her. "Calm yourself Minerva," his blue eyes twinkled at her indignation. "The envelope arrived to its correct destination. It was Harry's aunt and uncle who kept it from him." His brow creased lightly and he sighed. "This is not entirely unexpected." Crossing to the table that was set with two place settings, Dumbledore continued. "Petunia, Lily Potter's sister," he explained seeing Minerva's bemused expression "she does not approve of our world."

What Dumbledore did not mention was the letter from Petunia, some twenty years previous, just before Lily Evans' first year at Hogwarts, when Petunia had practically begged him to allow her to attend the school with her sister. These requests were not all that uncommon, and most siblings of the muggle born witch or wizard eventually understood the unfairness of letting them attend a school where they would have no hope to even attempt the lessons. Petunia clutched her jealousy tightly and had turned her back on her younger sister and the wizarding world.

"I remember Lily telling us about her sister," Minerva followed Dumbledore across the room and joined him at the table. She poured tea into both their cups as she continued. "It was, I believe, the day after the sister-"

"Petunia," Dumbledore interjected.

"Yes, the day after she married that horrible muggle man. Lily was heartbroken she had not been a bridesmaid."

"I seem to remember," Dumbledore said thoughtfully and lifted the cup of tea to his lips; he stopped just short of taking a sip. "James trying to comfort her, and promising to make amends with Petunia and Vernon." He sipped his tea.

They both paused for a moment, remembering James and Lily, students first, then friends and comrades. Theirs was, they both thought, a great loss. Again, Minerva heard voices from long ago: _Professor! Professor, is someone born an Animagus, or can you learn to be one? _

She shook her head, chasing away the memory. "Another letter then?" Asked Professor McGonagall, breaking the silence and bringing them back to the topic at hand.

"Oh yes, definitely. Although I doubt the Dursley's will give in as easily as that." Dumbledore said with a small smile. "Oh, and one more thing, Minerva, they've allowed Harry to take the small bedroom upstairs."

Minerva gave him a small nod of understanding. "I shall address today's letter appropriately."

Morning, July 26th 1991

Professor McGonagall already knew what to expect as she knocked on Dumbledore's office door and heard "Come in." Dumbledore sounded amused.

She found him sitting behind his desk, a scroll of parchment in his hands, each end still a bit curved from having been rolled up tightly.

"They didn't give him the second letter, did they?" She asked with no pretense.

"No, they did not." Dumbledore sighed and set down the parchment onto his desk top. "They are fighting a losing battle, those two. And poor Arabella has broken her leg, tipped over one of her cats." A second knock on the door stopped him from saying anything further on the subject of the residents of Privet Drive. "Come in, Severus."

Morning, July 27th 1991

"They've nailed up the letter box?" Minerva asked astonished. "What good do they think that will do?"

The remains of their breakfasts had vanished the moment they had set down their forks, and Professor Severus Snape had excused himself a few minutes later. Dumbledore had watched Severus leave, and seemed to have considered the closed door for a few minutes before telling Minerva the previous day's events at No 4 Privet Drive.

"Albus," Professor McGonagall continued, "Do they not understand…?"

"No, Minerva, they do not understand. A very limited imagination they have between the two of them."

"Well then." Minerva smiled as dozens of alternate delivery methods occurred to her. "I shall educate them on the possibilities." She stood. "I am, after all, a professor."

Morning, July 28th 1991

"I should have thought the boy would have been able to get a hold of at least _one_ of the twelve letters I sent." Professor McGonagall was perturbed. "I sent three up the plumbing for heavens sake!"

Dumbledore smiled, tossed his long beard over his shoulder and ordered eggs for his breakfast.

Morning, July 29th 1991

"I've half a mind to go and collect the boy myself!" Professor McGonagall was beyond perturbed this morning. She had sent two dozen letters this time, magicked into the morning egg delivery. And still, Dumbledore had shaken his head at Minerva's questioning eyes when she entered his office that morning.

"Oh no, Minerva," Dumbledore said amused at her outrage. "You have far too much to do here. And besides," he added with a twinkle in his bright blue eyes, "This is much too much fun to stop now."

Morning, July 30th 1991

"Down the chimney, Minerva? I expected a more imaginative approach." Dumbledore said teasingly.

"Well, there's no post on Sunday, Albus!"

Late evening, July 30th 1991

"I give up Albus." Minerva sat heavily down into the chair opposite the headmaster's desk. "I sent _one hundred_ letters to that hotel, and you're telling me the boy did not get his hands on any of them?" Professor McGonagall had not been able to wait for the next morning's breakfast. She had been so sure that at least one of the hundred would have found its way into young Harry Potter's hands. She had underestimated those muggles hatred of the wizarding world.

"Not even one." Dumbledore said, sadly. "I think, Minerva, it is time to take matters in hand. Please ask Hagrid to join us."

The End

**A/N: Thank you for reading, and please look for the next story in my project The Keeper of the Keys.**


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